The Count's World 12: An Unexpected House Party
by The Great Allie
Summary: Count Bleck is frustrated to find an unruly house party taking place in his castle, but has a hard time putting a stop to it. Meanwhile, the minions decide that Dimentio is a ghost and is haunting them.
1. 12 dash 1

_I don't think I have anything to say. I haven't played a Mario Party game since I was in the 'special' school, but I read about them all the time. This, clearly, isn't a Mario Party but Count Bleck desperately wants it to be. See how he takes an unruly party and turns it into something to be proud of… or not. __Flowerstar's party fic is better so far. I'm almost done composing my review._

_I'd also like to say that the subplot with Dimentio is something I really, really wish I had thought of when I started this._

* * *

Count Bleck and Tippi had spent the day by the seaside. It was very romantic, as you can well imagine. They had a picnic lunch and played dodge-the-waves, listened to the ocean in the seashells and talked about nothing in particular. It was just about the most perfect day you can imagine, spent with the one you love most.

So, of course, they came home to total chaos.

When they got back, the castle was overwhelmed with creatures from all over the world. From several worlds, in fact. Either someone had brought everyone here or someone had tapped into the Exor Rift (a cut in time and space that allowed anyone to travel through dimensions, provided they knew where it was and didn't care where they ended up.)

"Who are all these people, Count Bleck wondered aloud. I don't remember inviting anybody."

"Perhaps one of your minions did?"

"No… if you combined all four of them I can't imagine them having this many friends."

"Blumiere!"

"I'm merely stating a fact," he told her. "If I said it in _front_ of one of them, _that_ would make it rude."

Count Bleck pushed through a mob of people out front. They were all acting rambunctiously, so when the Count bumped somebody's shoulders, he wasn't even noticed.

"What an unruly crowd," Count Bleck commented. "Stay close to me, Timpani."

Inside, it was worse than outside. There were just as many creatures, crammed in the halls of Castle Bleck. Someone apparently had been feeding them, because there were discarded plates and cups and crumbs all over, as well as people shouting with their mouths full. It was really quite rude. Inside, Bleck could feel the distinctive pulse of heavy metal or techno music- something he did _not_ allow in his castle- coming through the floors and walls.

The noise was getting uncomfortable. It was mainly the loudness of voices, but they all blended together until it became impossible to pick out any single conversation. Finally, Count Bleck reached out, located Nastasia, and teleported to her.

He found her locked in the Chuckola Cola cellar, behind a rack of vintage colas the Count had collected. She was going over some papers and frowning heavily. The pulse was stronger down here, but all other noise was muffled significantly.

"Nastasia." Count Bleck nodded.

"Oh, yeah, hi." She didn't look up.

"Have you been upstairs?" asked Count Bleck.

"I'm gonna get right on that," she explained. "Yeah, but first I have to finish something else. I promise, it's in my in-box on the top of my to-do pile."

"Where are my minions?"

"Hiding, I suppose, or else in the party."

"Why is there a party in Bleck's Castle?"

Nastasia paused, and then sucked in some air. "Yeah, it's a long story."

"It can't be too long if it's important."

"Hm. Well, yeah, that's true. So, anyway, it seems that some of your enemies have found you."

"Bleck has enemies?"

"Like K. Man Koopa. You know, small-time, big vengence? Yeah, so, they hunted you down and found your castle, prepared to fight you to the ends of the world. But nobody was home, though, so they just started hanging out. Yeah, and they decided to have some fun, and they were having so much fun that they went and got their friends, and then their friends got _more_ friends, and… it kinda just got out of hand."

"So… they came seeking vengeance… and threw a party?"

"Revenge of the worst kind; property damage."

Tippi gasped. "How horrible!"

"You are being sarcastic, am I right?"

"Half and half," she replied.

"So we're gonna need an action plan, 'k?" Nastasia continued. "Yeah, 'cause I really can't do anything on my own."

"Hm."

* * *

Meanwhile, Mimi, O'Chunks, and Mr. L were having a secret meeting in the fort Mimi built out of blankets in her room. She was shining a flashlight under her face and addressing the other three as if she was some sort of tribal leader.

"Okay, guys," she said. "I've called this meeting to talk about something really, really important. It's about Dimentio."

"Why, what'd he do?"

"Okay, like, remember how Count Bleck came to find all of us way back when he came back after all that yucky stuff we all did?"

"Um… you mean the first time we saw him, like, post-void?"

"Yeah."

"Ey, Mimi, there ain't much air under 'ere, is 'ere? Why don't we do this out in the open?"

"'Cause, dummy, I don't want Dimentio to hear us!"

"Ah. 'Scuse me, then, I just thought it was a blanket fort. Didn't realize it was a soundproof fortress."

Mimi smacked in his direction, but couldn't reach. Then she put her grip firmly back on the flashlight. "As I was saying! So, like, do you guys remember when we first found Dimentio then?"

Mr. L pondered that for a moment. "If I remember right, he was just kind of at our first meeting."

"Yeah! And, like, we all thought he was dead until then, right?"

"Yeah…"

"So! What if he, like, really _was_ dead?"

"… I don't follow."

"What if Dimentio's a ghost and he's been haunting this castle the whole time!" She looked at them expectantly. "I mean, it all adds up, doesn't it? He would have blown up right there in the meeting room, right where we found him. What if he _never left_!"

Mr. L and O'Chunks looked at each other, trying to decide of she was off her rocker or full of insight.

"Ah, it don't add up, lass," O'Chunks said finally. "Sure, what yeh said is true… but 'asn't 'e left the castle since that? A lot, even."

"Well, he's not, like, trapped in here. Not all ghosts are. But what if he really is a ghost?"

Mr. L pulled his hat down as far as he could. "Ohmanohmanohman, don't even joke about that," he said. "If you're gonna be bringing up ghosts you'd better be 100% serious, I swear."

"I am!" She leaned in closely, looked left and right quickly, and whispered, "Dimentio is a ghost and he's going to haunt us until we get rid of him!"

Just then, someone tapped on one of the chairs that was holding up the blanket fort.

At least one of them screamed. They all jumped and scrambled to hide.

"Pardon me, interrupted Count Bleck. May I have a word with you?"

Count Bleck was waiting outside the fort. He had tapped with the jewel of his staff, and now he was waiting patiently with his arms folded as usual.

"Oh." Mimi panted and put her hand over her chest. "Oh, good. We thought you were Dimentio."

"That happens all the time."

"So, what's up?"

"Well," said Count Bleck, "I was wondering if you knew that there was apparently a rave going on downstairs."

"Oh, yeah, I heard that."

"And, may I ask, why you did not give these trespassers the boot when they first arrived here in the castle?"

Dead silence.

"Well, we were having this meeting, you see, and… um… you want us to get rid of them now, right?"

Count Bleck put his finger above his mouth- normally this would be a touching your nose gesture, but he had no nose to speak of. Then he glided out of the room.

He met up with Dimentio just outside the hallway. "Good afternoon," said Count Bleck.

"I was resting in my room," said Dimentio, "when my ears started to burn like bad ointment upon sensitive skin. May I ask what it was about?"

"You may ask anything you like," replied Count Bleck. "I don't know what they were discussing, however, although I have the utmost confidence you'll be able to squeeze it out of Miss Mimi with a bit of effort."

Dimentio nodded and floated into the room. As soon as he entered the room, he saw three forms duck under the blanket fort. He thought for a moment, and then tapped on the door.

"Is that Nastasia?" called Mr. L.

"No," said Dimentio in a partially-disguised voice.

There was a mad scrambling on the other side of the door. Dimentio heard the thud of a heavy object falling down and the rush of fabric moving quickly.

"Ain't nobody in here but us bedroom furniture pieces!" Mr. L called after the rustle.

"Ah. I must have been mistaken. After a brief conversation with our beloved Count, I was under the impression that there was a blockhead convention taking place within a fort in Mimi's room."

"_Who's_ a blockhead?"

"Go away, ghost!"

Dimentio tugged on his poncho right over his chest and debated whether or not he wanted to be having this conversation. He decided that his time would be better spent investigating downstairs.

* * *

"Dude, somebody toss me a shell!"

"Hey, I'm wearin' that one!"

"Oh, man, look! Johnson's not wearing a shell!"

"Come on, guys, this is embarrassing!"

"Shell fight!"

The main parlor was a flurry of koopa shells as they were tossed around the room like water balloons. Count Bleck was hovering in an upper corner of the room. The only reason he had not been noticed at this point was because the crowd was too self-absorbed.

"This is not how respectable people have a party," he said to the air beside him. He did a double-take, and then looked to his other side. Then he stuck his head through the wall and pulled it back. Tippi appeared in the air he had been speaking to.

"Sorry," she said. "I was delayed. What did I miss?"

A red shell came two inches from Count Bleck's face, but he hit it away with his staff.

"This is not how respectable people have a party," he repeated.

"Oh." She looked over the crowd. One koopa had been knocked onto his shell, and the shell-less koopas around him were spinning him around. The poor thing looked about as green as his shell, but he seemed to be having a good time.

"Why are they naked?" asked Tippi.

"They aren't naked, they're wearing undershirts and shoes."

The steady music pulse abruptly changed. It was clear that a song had ended, and another began. Count Bleck clenched his muscles.

"I detest that noise," he said. "The first thing I shall do is hunt it down and put a stop to it. So says Count Bleck!"

A goomba on the ground, who was busy dodging feet and trying not to be stepped on, suddenly heard and noticed Count Bleck.

"Dude!" he said. "It's the dude! The dude we were looking for, dudes!"

"Dude, you have _got_ to try this thing I found in the fridge!" his goomba friend called to him, holding a platter of cheeses on his head.

"Dude!" the goomba promptly forgot about Count Bleck and went off to eat more of the Count's food.

Count Bleck shook his head.


	2. 12 dash 2

_I've been incredibly depressed lately. Mostly because I'm lonely, being all alone in my studio apartment. I haven't made any friends or found any clubs at college yet, so I spend most of my time by myself or walking around downtown. But so I won't spend all of my time so isolated, I'm getting a betta fish soon to keep me company. If anyone has personal experience with the little darlings, I'm collecting information._

_I also am trying to restore my Dell PC to it's factory-original state, which is slow going since the warranty expired and Tech Support won't have anything to do with me. And, as always, if you speak a language of a country with a Disney Park, I'm always looking for help._

_Now that I've asked for something, I'd better give something in return:_

* * *

Count Bleck followed the pulsing beat to the Meeting Room, where a boomboxer had hooked up so many cables, wires, and speakers that it looked like they were inside of the worlds smartest computer (That would be TEC, for those of you who don't remember!)

The music in the room was so loud that staying in for even a moment could cause permanent hearing damage. He put on a pair of noise-canceling ear guards and located the party's DJ Boomboxer, who was rocking away in the middle of the room.

"Good evening," said Count Bleck.

"Who are you?" the Boomboxer said. "Oh, man, I've got a headache."

"I'm not surprised," said Count Bleck, taking off his ear guards.

"What?"

"I said, I'm not surprised!"

"Oh."

"It's quite loud in here," said Count Bleck. "I must say, this is not my favorite kind of music. In fact, it's a style I particularly detest." He began to float along the side of the room, examining all of the gadgets and players used to produce such an offensive yet mathematically perfect racket.

"What? Hey, don't touch anything!" The Boomboxer fell into pace behind him. "I spent a long time settin' that stuff up."

"It was well worth your effort." Count Bleck found the source of the music, the vinyl record set in the player that was the base for all of this. Without a word, he pulled the needle off, took the record and tucked it under his cape.

"I just told you not to touch anything!" The Boomboxer stamped his foot. "That counts as touching something!"

"Does it now." It wasn't a question. Count Bleck took another vinyl from under his cape and put it on the record player. He carefully positioned the needle and let it play. "There," he said. "That's one problem solved."

Instead of blaring, offensive techno music, now the room was filled with the sweet sounds of traditional chamber music, relaxing and intimate yet powerful enough to invoke our most primal emotions. This particular piece consisted of a violin, a piano, a cello, and a clarinet, and it was one of Count Bleck's favorite. It was one he'd played for Timpani not long after they'd first met. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, taking a private moment to enjoy the piece by himself.

"Aw, man, that music stinks," said the Boomboxer. "Put the beat back on."

"I'm sorry," said Count Bleck. "It's time for you to be on the moon now." And he spread his arms out and made the Boomboxer disappear. Then he himself disappeared, traveling back into the cellar to find Nastasia.

"Well," said Count Bleck, "I've solved one problem."

Nastasia and Tippi were sitting opposite each other on two barrels. They weren't doing anything except staring each other down.

"Is something the matter?"

"Just waiting for you," said Nastasia.

Count Bleck shrugged. "Very well. Count Bleck has found suitable music for this gathering. With any luck, it will turn into a pleasant and controllable event."

He climbed the ladder to the ceiling and opened the cellar hatch to the pantry.

"Oh, no," he groaned.

"What is it?" Tippi called. She fluttered up to hang by his side. Nastasia joined him on the other side.

"Oh."

"Oh, I see…"

In response to the chamber music, the party had changed. Now, instead of a wild techno rave, they had all paired up and were waltzing unstoppably across floors and halls, and a few were even on the walls. It was still as wild and out-of-control as ever, but it was hard to tell because it was just so _refined._

"Wow," said Tippi.

"I think I saw a powdered wig," said Nastasia.

Count Bleck performed a facepalm.

"This may be more difficult than previously anticipated…"

* * *

Mr. L hung up Mimi's bedroom phone. Mimi and O'Chunks were waiting nearby, leaning expectantly.

"Well?" Mimi demanded. "What'd he say?"

"Professor E. Gadd says he's sorry that he can't make it to investigate this ghost-related phenomenon, but he'd be happy to send over the Poltergust 3000 if we think we need it."

"We do, we do!"

Mr. L tapped the phone against the wall, and the strange ghost-sucking vacuum known as the Poltergust fell out of the receiver.

"That was weird."

Mr. L strapped the vacuum to his back. "All right," he said. "I feel much less terrified of ghosts now that I have the right equipment for fighting them."

"D'ya wanna go hunt him down, then?"

"I didn't say _that_." Mr. L straightened his cap.

Then, from out of thin air, Dimentio called after them in his contented singsong voice. "So, you think you have it all figured out, do you?"

"Yeah!" Mimi said abrasively.

"Then I suppose you wouldn't mind tracking me down and putting your adorable little theory to the test, then, would you?"

"We're gonna find you!" Mimi hollered into empty space. Then she tugged on O'Chunks's arm. "Aren't we? Aren't we gonna—tell him—tell 'im we're gonna find him."

"Aye, lass, we'll find 'im."

"And then we'll stop him from haunting our castle." She turned back into empty space. "Did you hear that, O'Chunks? I mean, Dimentio? We're gonna find you!"

"I think 'e already left."

"Oh."

Mr. L pushed aside Mimi's bed skirt and came out from hiding, which he apparently did the second he heard Dimentio's now-ghostly voice. "Okay," he said, wiping the dust off his overalls, "let's go, um… hunt a… ghost. Yeah."

O'Chunks opened Mimi's bedroom door. In the hallway, the mob of partygoers were swarming all up and down the passage now dressed in turn-of-the-century period costumes, paired up, and waltzing in a definitive pattern.

"'Scuse me," he said, pushing into the hallway. The mob was hard to move, but O'Chunks was able to shove a path through them, and beckon for them to follow. "I can't keep 'em separated fer long, so pick up yer tails an' stick to me heels."

Mr. L jumped out from the doorway into the small empty aura created by O'Chunks's bulging muscles. He held Mimi's arm tightly so she wouldn't be swept away by the throng. By staying uncomfortably close to O'Chunks's backside, they were able to keep from being separated.

For about nine seconds.

Then a pink bandit switched partners at the same time she was passing Mr. L, and began dancing with him.

"Uh, excuse me, miss, I'm not actually dancing…" he stammered, but that didn't phase Miss Bandit. Before he could stutter out another nervous refusal, he had become part of the Party, which was quickly becoming one single mass (and a two-step away from becoming an organism in it's own right.)

Mimi turned around as soon as she felt his grip let go. In that second she had become separated from O'Chunks as well, and was Lost in the Crowd.

"Um, Mr. L? O'Chunks?" She looked around. "Anybody?"

"Come with me," a gentle voice crooned from behind her. Delighted, she turned around.

"Oh," she said, disappointed. "It's just you."

Dimentio pouted. "What do you mean by that?" he said with mock hurt.

"Oh, yeah! We're looking for you!" She looked around. "But first I need to find Mr. L."

"Don't worry," said Dimentio. "He ought to be switching partners any moment now."

Dimentio was right, and Mr. L and Miss Bandit waltzed up next to them and split apart. Mimi grabbed him out of the way of another potential partner. "Quick!" she yelped. "Stun him with the light! Stun him with the light!"

Mr. L started fumbling with the Poltergust.

"Ah-ah-ah," said Dimentio. "You'll have to catch me first."

"Waitwaitwaitdon'tdisappear!" Mr. L cried. "I almost got it!"

"Ah, it wouldn't be fair for me to simply vanish like an author without a deadline," he said. "Instead, I shall follow the Rules… of the Dance." He took Mimi's hands in his own. "And you, my dear, shall be my dance partner in crime."

Before she could react, he'd already started, and they had now become part of the throng. His feet, thought not actually touching the ground, were swift and smooth, knowing exactly where they were supposed to be. Mimi, on the other hand, had no idea how to dance, but Dimentio seemed to be moving her under his own power. Perhaps that, too, was part of his magic.

Step, twirl, brush, step, back…

"Tell me, my dear," said Dimentio, "have you ever danced before?"

"Um, no…" she said, not entirely sure she was dancing now.

"I never imagined I could enjoy a simple waltz as dearly as I will surely hold this one to my hart. You and I, when we move together, are two snowflakes dancing towards the earth that have touched during their journey and have become connected, finally coming to rest, together on the frost-kissed ground."

Mimi was staring into his eyes. She never noticed just how friendly they could be when they weren't scheming and manipulating. She'd never seen him like this before.

"Tell me," he continued, "you do believe what you said earlier, do you not?"

She realized he was expecting an answer, and nodded. Then she realized that her jaw was slack and closed her mouth.

"Perhaps it's true. Perhaps I've stayed long past my welcome. A ghost should not remain on this mortal plane, and yet… if I did, I had a very good reason."

"What was that?"

"You, my dear."

She twitched. "Really?"

"I may be a liar, my dear, but there is one thing I am not, and that is a liar."

Just then, he dropped her. She fell two feet onto the floor, landing right on her bottom. Dimentio shot upwards and landed on the ceiling. Mimi saw that he had jumped out of the way of the Poltergust's flashlight, which Mr. L had just fired.

"Too easy," said Dimentio. "I was looking for a challenge. I could hear you sneaking up on me a hallway away and I still had time to muddle with the child's head."

"Wait, you were just messing with me?"

"You ought to see your face sometime," Dimentio replied. "I had you eating out of my finely gloved hand." He disappeared.

"Wait," said Mr. L, so was he lying when he told you he liked you or was he lying when he said he was lying?"

"I don't know," said Mimi. "Let's get back to making him disappear."

"Are you mad?"

"**YES, I'M MAD, THANKS FOR ASKING**!"

* * *

"My next plan," said Count Bleck to Nastasia and Tippi in the cellar, "is to mass hypnotize the party into thinking they no longer want to have fun. Thus they will go home and leave us alone forever."

Nastasia straightened her glasses. "That's my department. Yeah, so leave it to me. I'll have them all headed home before the end of the record."


	3. 12 dash 3

_The other day I was scratching my shoulder and a little hairy thing like a piece of pipe cleaner came off and landed on my keyboard. I thought it was just part of a tree, but then it started to move and I realized it was a bug. Yeargh! I had to unplug my keyboard from the computer and take it outside to let the little guy go. I hate it when bugs are all up in my personal space!_

_Do you know how long it takes to type a fan fiction with a ten-foot pole?_

* * *

Nastasia carefully opened the cellar door. There was enough clearance for her to squeeze out, followed by the Count and Tippi. They hugged the wall, making their way through the castle.

"What a mess," Tippi observed.

"No respect for other people's property," Count Bleck said in agreement.

Nastasia stepped over an end table that had been tipped onto its side. The glass vase on it was shattered. No one noticed, and the broken bits of glass were probably spread all over the hall by now. It's not as if anyone would care, she thought angrily, seeing as how they're all wearing shoes.

Soon they found the largest collection of partygoers. They'd taken the ex-lab and former home of the interdimensional space hole into the current center of the party. There were more people in this room than any other individual room.

"All right," said Count Bleck. "If it works, it would have the best effect here."

Dimentio appeared upside-down next to the Count. "What is up, my Count?" he asked pleasantly.

"We're stopping the party."

"Good. I'm getting tired of it."

Nastasia straightened her glasses. "All right," she said. "Yeah, so I'm going to mass-hypnotize the attendees in three… two…"

"Hey look!" someone in the crowd shouted. "It's Captain Monocle!"

"Yay!" some others shouted. "It's Captain Monocle here to the rescue! Show us your monocle powers!"

Nastasia threw up her fists. "Show some respect, 'K? He's the Count!"

"Who's the babe?"

"I dunno, she's just here."

"This is _our castle_, and you are not showing it proper respect!"

Count Bleck picked something up off the floor. It was the Beige Prognosticus. Or at least, it was what the Beige Prognosticus would look like if it had been taken off the stand and kicked around the castle for hours on end.

"Oh, dear," said Tippi.

"Well," said Count Bleck, "at least it was only the Beige one."

"Oh, that's it." Nastasia was practically glowing. "They break into our castle uninvited, they break our things, eat our food, trap me in a cellar, distract my employees and _ruin all of my handwork_!"

She lifted her glasses and a blinding beam filled the room. Each and every dancer within reach of the light stopped, and turned to face the count.

Even though the chamber music was still playing quite loudly, it was eerily quiet to our heroes.

"Well?" Count Bleck said to Nastasia, while still staring straight ahead at the now fixated mob.

Nastasia cleared her throat. "Yeah, so, this party is officially over, 'K? You'll want to be getting home, then."

"HAIL BLECK!!"

The mob didn't move.

"Go on," she urged, gesturing for them to clear out. "Shoo. Scat. Scram, 'K?"

"We would never leave your side, O Count!" one of them hollered.

"You made them too loyal, Nastasia," said Count Bleck.

"I can see that."

Tippi rolled sideways and looked at Count Bleck. "She made them too loyal, Blumiere."

"I can see that, Timpani."

"Oh," said Nastasia slowly. "Oh, I see. Yeah, so when I was angry, I used too much power. Instead of just putting my suggestions in their minds, I put my whole _mind_ into their minds. Now they're thinking… um, like me."

"Oh, dear."

"Oh dear, indeed."

Dimentio slowly rotated until he was upright. "Ah, well," he said cheerfully. "At least they don't all have secret crushes on the Count."

At that, each and every head turned away, each pair of hands folded behind the back, and each and every mouth started whistling innocently.

Count Bleck's eyes had never been so wide in his entire life.

"Count Bleck must go lie down now," he said. "He is incredibly creeped out by this turn of events." He disappeared.

Nastasia rubbed her temples and groaned. "Now what," she said.

Dimentio looked down the hallway and disappeared.

"I have no idea," said Tippi. "Why don't we just flood the place or something?"

"That's a terrible idea," said Nastasia.

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

Mimi, who'd taken the form of a giant Bumpity, was barreling down the hallway. Everyone that touched her went flying off into the wall, making it the ideal form for getting through the hallway.

"Have you seen Dimentio?" asked Mimi. "I have to kill him."

"He just left," said Tippi. "You might try the roof."

"Thanks!" Mimi turned into a Parakoopa and flew off down the hallway.

* * *

Tippi found Count Bleck in their room, which was isolated enough so that the party had not yet leaked over to it yet. He kept the door bolted and secured at all times to keep intruders out, not that it ever stopped his warping (and warped) minions.

He'd taken all of their storage boxes, drawers, and containers out and was pawing through, looking for something.

"I don't suppose there's anything in your Dark Prognosticus about stopping an unwanted party," she said dryly.

Count Bleck waved his hand. "Ach-tch-tch. Just a moment, my dear. I am hot on the trail of something."

"What?"

"The answer to our prayers," he replied, "and the end to this party. I believe I have an idea."

"What is it?"

Count Bleck was a little too wrapped up in what he was doing to give her his full attention. "The most hideous… abomination to ever… that ever… what was I talking about? Oh, yes, the vinyl. You see, since fast, heavy music riled them up, I thought that perhaps gentle, sweet, refined music would relax them. In statistics, that is what's known as a faulty correlation. But I believe I have an idea—"

He looked up suddenly. "Oh, no."

"What?"

He grabbed her and teleported to the outside of the castle. When they'd arrived, the party had already spilled out around the outside. It was still going strong outside, thanks to some speakers that had recently been installed on the pikes outside.

In fact, there was that same DJ Boomboxer, just finishing installing them.

"You!" he said. "How did you get off the moon?"

"I dunno, I just was and then I wasn't, you know?" DJ Boomboxer shrugged. "So I figured, why not?"

"Indeed. Have you seen a Chain Chomp around here?"

He pointed off to the side. Count Bleck tipped his hat and went sailing through the air in the direction he pointed. Tippi followed close behind.

"Do you think Charlotte has been eating party guests?"

"I hope not," said Count Bleck.

They found her, staked to the ground outside with a clear seven-foot radius around her. She was bouncing around excitedly, apparently oblivious to the fact that she could clear a room faster than a robot designed for that very purpose. She bit and snapped at the other guests, but there were no mangled bones near her.

"Summon O'Chunks," he said, "If you please, that is. He's the only one who can handle the sheer strength of this monstrosity."

"Is she part of your plan?" asked Tippi.

"She is."

"Could you please tell me your plan?"

He gave her a quick kiss on her box antennae. "I was wrong about calm music calming them down. But I know how to eradicate an entire party at a rate of (X/15.7) per second, with X standing for the total population of the party, and using a Chain Chomp to even out the numbers. You see, my mistake was picking music that is widely enjoyed by normal people. If you want to clear out a party, your choice of music must be the most offensive, the most unpleasant, the nastiest, most, odious, horrible, abominable music known to man."

Tippi gasped. "You don't mean…?"

He nodded. "Toad polka."


	4. 12 dash 4

_Whether or not you imagine Tippi as I am now, I've always assumed she could hold things. I don't know how. I just figured she'd land on something and then fly up, and it would stick to her. Did that happen in the game or did I just imagine it? Well, anyway, she can grab things. A record is almost, but not entirely too heavy for her. That is all._

* * *

Count Bleck, Tippi, and Nastasia made their way through the party, fighting the mob like Cheep-Cheeps swimming upstream. By now they had come to ignore the partygoers attitude as actual beings and had just come to think of them as unstoppable forces of nature, to be weathered and endured. It was harder to be angry with nature than with ungrateful and uninvited guests, at the very least.

When they got back to the room where the music was coming from, a new wrinkle arose in the plan: there were two Chargin' Chucks- big, burly, beefy creatures whose only goal in life was to play football and play it HARD- were now playing "Bouncer" to the main room. It would not be just a case of slipping in and popping the record on.

"Pardon me," said Count Bleck, approaching them and tipping his hat. "I'll just be passing through here, if you don't mind—"

The one on the left, Skippy, held out his arm in front of the Count. "No, I do mind," he said. "So you'll just be on your way."

Count Bleck tried to teleport past him, but Skippy saw right through him and broke his concentration.

"Nice try," the other one, Daryl, said. "No one's getting in there to change the music. Except DJ Boomboxer."

"I see," said Count Bleck. "I see… yes, well…"

He motioned to Tippi, who flew up and landed on Skippy's head. She flapped her wings twice and turned in a circle.

"Hey," said Daryl, "You've got a fairy on your head."

"Not a fairy," said Tippi. "I'm a pixl."

Count Bleck stepped back and slipped the record to Nastasia, who quickly ducked to the side. "Oh, very well," he was saying the whole time, "She's a very good pixl, too, with a lot of good information about… well, about anything."

"It's true," she said. "Ask me anything."

Nastasia began to slide along the wall quietly.

"Okay," said Skippy… "Um… how many acres in a gallon?"

"Seventeen," Tippi replied.

Daryl took his fist and pounded it into the doorframe, an inch in front of Nastasia's path. She put her hands to her face, trying to hide the record in her arms.

"Nice try," said Daryl. "I'll just be taking that now."

She looked over his shoulder and made a thoughtful face.

"Don't even think about it," said Daryl. "We're, like, football players. Chargin' Chucks!"

At the same time, Skippy said to Tippi, "Wait a minute, gallons and acres don't manage the same thing."

"Yes, they do. Trust me."

Count Bleck appeared behind Nastasia and took the record out of her hands. "I've got it!"

Daryl charged towards him, but Count Bleck hovered up in the air. Tippi grabbed onto his cape and went along with him. Skippy took a position in front of the door before Count Bleck could get close to it. They stared each other down for a moment, and then Bleck raced down the hallway, back towards the party.

"Stop him!" Skippy shouted. "He's up to something!"

Daryl ran after him, plowing through the crowds with ease. Before he caught up to them, Tippi took the record and went off in the opposite direction.

Daryl skidded to a stop and turned around, but Tippi was already ahead of him.

"Skippy!" he hollered. "Get it, get it!"

Skippy jumped up and grabbed at Tippi. Seconds before he had her in his big chunky fists, she'd tossed the record as far as she could (which wasn't very far- she was small, after all, and the record was big.) Nastasia dove and grabbed it, but missed.

"Don't let it smash!" Bleck shouted down the hallway. "That's the last one known to exist in a thousand dimensions!"

Just then, Dimentio popped out from the floor and grabbed it against his poncho. "I have it," he said.

"Wow, um, thanks, Dimentio," said Nastasia.

Dimentio barreled down the hallway. Skippy and Daryl were coming at him head-on. Wiley as he is, he was able to slip straight through them, still holding the record.

"For you, my Count," he said as they were still trying to figure out where the devil he'd gotten to. "Don't flatter yourself, thinking I'm helping you. I simply couldn't let something as delightfully malicious as this be destroyed."

Count Bleck nodded once and took that opportunity to cut through the door. Unfortunately, he was stopped the instant before by Skippy slamming the door shut in his face.

"Not so fast," he said, grabbing the record out of Count Bleck's gloved hands.

"I beg your pardon!"

Nastasia swiped it out of Skippy's hands. "Yeah, so I'll just be taking that from you, 'K?"

She took off running, but didn't get too far until she ran into Daryl, who clothes-lined her and took the record out of her hands.

"Foul! Foul!" Tippi cried.

"We're not actually playing football," said Skippy.

Another Chargin' Chuck came around the corner. "What's all the noise?" he asked. "Somethin' wrong? Ar, be ye needin' a tough guy 'round these parts?"

"Yeah," said Skippy. "We're gonna toss these guys in the dungeon for trying to ruin our party!"

"Yeah!"

"Okay," said the new Chuck. "You do that, and I'll hold onto the record. Then when they're gone we can all smash it together."

Daryl gripped Count Bleck by the shoulders and pushed him along down the hallway, while Skippy did the same to Nastasia.

"You don't handle a lady that roughly," Count Bleck warned.

"Can it, Captain Monocle."

When the four were gone, Tippi turned on the Chuck and rammed into him. "You brute!" she snarled. "You people are so… so _mean_ to the Count and everyone!"

The Chuck giggled. "Oh, don't be silly."

Tippi stopped and stared. "Oh… oh, my. You don't mean…"

In a puff of smoke, the Chargin' Chuck disappeared and in his place was none other than Mimi.

Tippi groaned. "Although I suppose that terrible attempt at tough-guy speak should have tipped me off, I really didn't see it coming. How did you know to do that?"

"Well, I was following Dimentio. Oh! That reminds me! I still need to kick his butt."

"All right," said Tippi, "Go put that record on like your life depends on it. As soon as you do, protect your ears. Once you hear the horrendous abomination that is Toad Polka, your life will never be the same. Godspeed, child." And she hurried down the corridor to warn the Count and Nastasia (but not the Chargin' Chucks.)

* * *

Thirty-seven seconds later, a collective scream rose out of the walls of Castle Bleck. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of creatures from every dimension heretofore discovered, poured out of every door and window towards the end of the world as fast as their various legs could carry them.

Near the end of the stampede, O'Chunks appeared in the main doorway waving his fists. One of his fists was clutching a chain, and at the end of the chain was Charlotte, snapping and biting at the heels of everyone too slow to escape in time.

Triumphantly, the Count and his minions all stood on the front esplanade of the castle.

"We did it!"

"Yes!"

"All right!"

"Hi-fives!"

Count Bleck nodded proudly. "I'm glad that some of you eventually managed to come through for me."

"Yer takin' what yeh kin get then, eh?"

Mr. L, still distributing hi-fives, suddenly remembered he still had the Poltergust on his back. "Oh, right!" he said. "Hey, Dimentio! Time for your haunting to end!"

He took the Poltergust and placed the hose against Dimentio's Poncho.

Dimentio looked down at it, and then looked up at Mr. L.

"Oh." Mr. L reached back and turned it off. "So, I guess you're not a ghost, then?"

"No," said Dimentio. "Although I did greatly enjoy your misguided attempts to vanquish my spectral being."

"Well, I'm feeling inspired," said Tippi.

"Yeah," said Nastasia. "So, Count, do you, um, have another mission for us, then?"

"I do," said Count Bleck. "But unfortunately Count Bleck has left it in his office."

"Oh." She waited. "So, um, can you go get it? Because it would be great if you did that."

He shook his head. "No. For you see, I didn't think of a way to turn off the Toad Polka from out here. We'll have to wait the forty-five minutes until the record runs out and we can retrieve it."

"Oh."

They all stood around uncomfortably, fidgeting.

"So," said Mimi with a grin.

Count Bleck groaned.

"Count Bleck dropped the ball," she continued.

"I think he did," Mr. L said approvingly.

And before he knew it, they were all dancing in a circle around him chanting, "Count Bleck dropped the ball~! Count Bleck dropped the ball~!"

Nastasia straightened her glasses. "You want me to hypnotize them for you, Count?"

"Come along, Timpani," he said. "Let us return to the seashore and spend the rest of our day alone, and together."

He looked around. "Timpani?"

"Count Bleck dropped the ball~! Count Bleck dropped the ball~!" she sang as she flew counter-clockwise, opposite the rest.

_

* * *

If you're reading these as an archive and aren't sure which one is next, check out The Count's World: Scary Stories Edition!_


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